DA Revelations Episode 1: Rejected By The Light
by AngelExposed
Summary: An encounter with Sinister leaves Remy in a ghostlike state and Betsy dead on the floor of a chemical plant just outside of New York six months after their departure from the X-Men.
1. Chapter 1: Betsy's Death

Authors Note: This is the first episode of the THIRD series of Dismal Angel, so if this is the first actual Dismal Angel episode you've ever read, I'd suggest first going to read the first two series, Dismal Angel and DA 2010, otherwise it might get confusing, LOL. Sorry this took so long, also. Props to Alex, who remained ever _patient _eagerly awaiting series 3.

Dismal Angel Revelations - Episode 1

Rejected By The Light

Chapter 1: Betsy's Death

Everything happened within one lightning flash and Remy LeBeau wasn't sure what had hit him. For one moment, he'd been ready to kill the man who had caused him so much anguish and torture for the past seven years. His enemy had been facing him, and for one moment, Remy was almost sure he could smell the blood, acrid and rotten, just like that monster's soul. He thought, when he'd shoved that adamantium knife through the foul black heart of Nathaniel Essex – the evil known as Mr Sinister – that this was the end of that evil existence.

Adamantium, Remy felt, should have killed him – at least in theory. Nothing else had seemed to work, explosions, acid, bullets, arrows, even Betsy Braddock's lethal psychic knife didn't faze him. Each weapon was as harmless as balls of fluffy cotton and Remy felt, that if adamantium couldn't do it, then nothing could. It had been his last hope.

He'd felt the slide of the knife as it cut through Sinister's metallic skin like butter, and he heard the gritting sound of metal push against metal almost as if in some sort of protest. There was an unfamiliar look on Sinister's face as he drove the knife through him and Remy thought it might be fear in those lifeless yet frightening red eyes.

Remy felt a rush of triumph before it happened. It felt as if he'd just been let loose from a cage he'd been pacing in all his life. A strange relief, a euphoria that seemed to make all the pain he'd been experiencing during the fight simply vanish. The pain in his back that had plagued him for most of his adult life seemed to go at once, along with the aching and tightness of his cheekbone where he'd been punched by a clone of himself.

He was looking at Sinister, who was melting around the knife into a liquid metal substance that began to drip down through a steel grating that led into the basement of the chemical plant. Remy glanced around to see if he could find Betsy Braddock, who had been with him most of the fight, he had lost sight of her, but had thought nothing of it. He didn't care enough to worry about her, and he knew she was a good enough fighter to deal with herself. He wanted Betsy to see his triumph, he wanted her to see Sinister die by his hand.

Betsy Braddock to his horror, lay dead on the floor, a quarter-staff with an array of impressive blades – it was his own, which a clone had managed to fight off of him – had pinned her deep into the floor from the chest, her eyes were wide open, and glassy. Absurdly the first thought that crossed his mind was it was the first time he'd ever seen Betsy with such an expression of disbelief across her face. Blood had spilled out across the floor like a crimson lake, it mingled with her plum tinted hair, and stained her bare arm.

Then Remy realised although he'd felt no pain, that something happened to him too, as Sinister disappeared entirely from sight, his body was falling – but he didn't seem to be falling with it.

Remy felt right then he'd been ripped from his own body, he felt a strange lurch as if he'd been in an elevator that had suddenly started to drop and then he found himself gazing down at himself, flat on his face, his sweat soaked hair splayed out on the cold tiles.

What the…? Remy asked, and he heard his own voice echo as if it perhaps bounced off around the room, but he was somehow aware that the room hadn't heard it at all and he couldn't understand why. The clones had all disappeared into the darkness.

_Slipped into the shadows, become one with the shadows_, he thought. That was always how his father, Jean-Luc had referred to it during the beginning of Remy's training as a Thief so many years ago. It had been one of the first lessons he'd learnt as a thief, an age old trick of measuring the darkness and learning to hide within it, make a retreat without being seen.

_I always forget_, he thought, _how they have my memories. They know what I'm thinking before I even do_…

Sinister was gone, and he was left alone with the dead body of Betsy Braddock – and his own body, which he wasn't sure was dead or alive. He stared down at himself again. Am I dead…or is this just…some kind of weird dream? he asked aloud, and he heard the echoes of his voice again. He examined his own body that lay lifeless on the floor – the same body he'd been torn away from at the moment whatever happened had. He certainly looked dead. This CAN'T be happening… he said to himself, and hearing his own voice – despite it's eerie echoes – made him feel slightly better.

A bright light caught his attention and he spun around to Betsy's direction, she still lay there, lifeless, dead. He moved over to it slowly, and he was very aware he couldn't feel himself taking any footsteps, he seemed to almost glide more than walk. A beam of light cut through the ceiling and landed upon Betsy's still body.

Remy gaped, and turned slowly so that he could look up to the ceiling. There was a vortex of incredible blinding light so bright Remy felt it should have hurt to look at. Turning back to Betsy, he saw her rise from her own body slowly, like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

She seemed to glow an ethereal blue, but lacked any other colour, her hair moved as if she were under water, swirling and waving, suspended by some invisible force – or perhaps that golden light itself, that was shining down upon her. She turned very slowly, and glanced back at Remy, and she saw him.

Remy felt almost relieved for one moment, because if she saw him, that meant he must have been alive, but yet, it occurred to him that Betsy was dead, and whatever he was staring at had to be her spirit. It was funny really, although he realised Betsy was as human as he was, it hadn't occurred to him either that Betsy might have actually had a soul.

Betsy's eyes were like glass buttons, he could almost see right through the irises. She gave a strange sort of smile and reached up towards the vortex of light.

Wait… Remy tried to reach out to her, and realised that unlike Betsy, he was not glowing, he saw his arm, but it was not the same ethereal blue. In fact, he looked as if perhaps he'd just stepped out of a nineteen-forties black and white movie. What's…what's happening? he asked.

Betsy didn't answer, she began to glide up into the air, and began to disappear into the light. Her appearance began to fade like some ghostly apparition, and then, she was gone, and the light vanished into a tiny pinpoint, then it vanished completely.

Remy turned towards his own body and he moved towards it again, he looked up briefly to see if the same vortex of light might be above him, but he saw none.

What's going on? He thought worriedly. If I'm dead, why did Betsy go into the light and why didn't I?

_If the light is heaven_, _if there is such a thing_, Remy thought, _then WHY did someone like Betsy get in but I didn't?_ It occurred to him that if someone like Betsy – someone as cold and manipulative – could get into heaven…into the light…then why couldn't he?

Remy paused to think if there was ever anything he'd done that might forbid him into the gates of heaven. _Does religion even have a part in this_? He wondered. Sure_, I've sinned, I've had my share of sins. I've had everyone elses share of sin, too. Every time I've ever touched a woman, been with a woman, I've sinned, and all those clones I killed…sure, they're clones, artificially created, but they were still living breathing beings so that probably counts as 'thou shalt not kill'_…

He looked down at himself again. _So why did Betsy go into the light and I didn't_? _I mean she's not exactly a saint. She's been in several porn movies, and she's probably had as many men as I've had hot dinners. Probably women too, who knows? And she isn't classed as particularly evil – just manipulative_. _She has killed though, clones and people, I know that. So why is she entitled to go to the other side – if that's what it is?_ He looked up again curiously.

He heard a small groan and if he hadn't already jumped out of it the moment he'd been wounded and knocked down, he might have jumped out of his skin. He glanced back down towards his body, to find it not quite as lifeless as he'd though. He saw a tiny tremble, and realised that he was alive.

_How can I even be alive_? He thought, _I'm here, I'm not there_…_I'm not IN my body_.

He leaned down close to his own body, he could hear a very struggled breathing coming from the mouth of his body, and he could see the very slight shudder with that breath.

_I am alive_! he realised. _So…why am I still here? God…what am I going to do? How do I get back IN to my body. I don't look good_…_I don't think I might live much longer_. It seemed to him even his thoughts were irrational. None of this seemed possible, but then he realised that once, perhaps one hundred years ago, the concept of mutant powers had been impossible too, and yet, he possessed that impossibility.

_Never mind the impossibilities_, he thought, _you need to mind how you're going to fix this mess you've gotten into now. _

There was only one answer he could think of. He needed the X-Men.


	2. Chapter 2: 00067

Dismal Angel Revelations - Episode 1

Rejected By The Light

Chapter 2: 00067

_Okay_, Remy LeBeau thought. _I need the X-Men, that part's obvious. But how do I get to the X-Men. There's no way in hell I can walk all the way there – if I can at all walk. Doesn't feel like I can feel my legs_…_Anyway…Even if I could walk…it's at least a hundred miles or so…by the time I got there, what would I do? Would anyone hear me?_

Remy might have perhaps sighed if he had lungs, but in this ghostlike state he appeared to be in, he didn't have any reason for breathing. _Is that what I am_? He thought, _a ghost_?

He paused.

_No, ghosts come from DEAD people. I'm not dead, I can see myself there breathing. So what am I exactly right now_? He looked down at his body again and tried to touch it but his ashen fingers passed right through it as if perhaps they were never there to begin with. _Crazy.__ I must be crazy. Maybe I'm going to wake up and this is all a dream_.

He looked around him.

_No, this isn't a dream, this is a fucking nightmare. One huge fucking nightmare…and I can't even pinch myself to wake myself up!_

Remy sat there on the floor folded legged – a floor he couldn't really feel under his backside. He could see his legs now, and he could rest his hands upon his knees, yet couldn't feel them at all beneath his fingers.

_There's a term for this thing I'm going through_, he realised suddenly. _During some late nights when I couldn't sleep, I'd watch TV at night…and I used to see those 'Unexplained Mysteries' reruns on cable about this. Outer-body experience. This is what it is, it has to be_.

He spent some time considering this.

_But with outer-body experiences, aren't the people usually clinically dead – even for a minute? I can SEE I'm still alive there. Okay, so what does this mean? I'm having an outer-body experience for some reason. _

Remy looked at himself there on the floor, mesmerised for several moments. _So how do I get back into my body again_? He asked in thought, he reached over and tried to touch it again but was unable to make any kind of physical contact with it what so ever. _How can I get back into it if I can't touch it_? He noted the watch on his left wrist, the time showed it was just past 2am. He wondered if he might be able to press something somehow in order to send out a signal to the X-Men that he needed some urgent assistance.

He reached out and tried to tap the button under the LCD display of the watch, but his fingers passed right through it as if that watch were made perhaps of nothing but air.

_Ghosts can move things, and this is almost like being a ghost, I guess. How come I can't move anything? Am I not concentrating enough? God, WHAT am I gonna do?_ He thought worriedly as he sat there in some kind of ghostlike form he didn't quite understand, and there was no one for miles, and no way to summon help. _What am I gonna do_?!

Ten minutes previous, in Bayville…

"I hate being on nightshift," Jean Grey yawned as she propped her arm up on the counter by one of the control panels in the war room. It was necessary to always have X-Men on duty twenty-four hours a day in the mansion, whether it be taking turns watching out for any events on the news that might need their attention, or, like Jean was doing now, standing by in the war room poised for emergency action in the event of an emergency call.

"Oh, it's not so bad," Hank McCoy – who was sharing nightshift with her this particular night – gave a large toothy grin, fangs gleaming in the dim lighting of the war room. "I can think of far worse things than doing a nightshift stint in the war room," he admitted a moment later, "like being on nightshift in the war room with Bobby."

Jean raised an eyebrow, "Bobby is your best friend, Hank. Why would being on nightshift with him be such a bad thing?" she asked.

"Because he hasn't been himself, I suppose," Hank confessed, "you know how Bobby used to be – it was always a gas being on nightshift with him, he'd find some way to keep us entertained – and awake…now he just sit there talking non-stop about Rogue...."

"And that's a problem?" Jean asked softly.

"I taught the girl, I've spent eight and a half years fighting by her side, do you honestly think I need to hear about her favourite colour and the perfume she wears?" Hank said after a moment of reflection. "Do you think it's love, or merely obsession?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Could be love," Jean admitted, "although, to be honest, Bobby never struck me as the type of guy who falls in love. The kind of guy who has relationships on and off, they work out fine, and end fine, but not the kind of guy who just goes in head over heels."

"I've tried to get some info about him, but he doesn't say much, just does the usual – changes the subject." Hank sighed.

"I don't understand how this relationship with Rogue started. Sure, I noticed he'd spend a lot of time around her," Jean confessed, "And sure, I always knew he had a slight crush on her."

"Who wouldn't?" Hank asked, "Rogue has blossomed into what I can only deem a severely beautiful woman. If I hadn't known her so long and been a mentor, teacher and friend, I might have felt the same way…but that's not to be, and would be most unorthodox, not to mention somewhat perverse," He confessed.

Jean tapped her fingernails upon the counter top absently, "more or less the moment Rogue came back from that so-called vacation merely hours after they left – it seemed that Rogue and Bobby just took to each other. It's so strange…"

"I tried talking to Rogue about that," Hank confessed, "she wouldn't tell anyone what happened. Kitty mentioned something briefly about a break up with Remy and that was all," he admitted. "Perhaps – although it might be bold to say so excuse my bluntness – that this relationship with Bobby is merely one of those 'rebound' situations that women seem to read about in 'Cosmopolitan' magazines all the time…" he suggested.

"Could be. But even with Rogue, I would have thought she'd take a breather from her relationship with Remy before jumping into a new one with Bobby..." Jean tucked her red hair behind her ears, "I know Rogue and Remy were deeply in love – a strange love that probably even me or Scott could never really understand or appreciate…" Jean's green eyes stared into space.

"What are you getting at?" Hank asked curiously.

"I just…I think…in all honesty…that if it had been me and Scott breaking up in the way that she and Remy must have, then…it would have taken me a lot longer to 'get over' what had happened. It was barely three days later when Rogue and Bobby came back holding hands from a date – they've been inseparable ever since."

"Whatever Remy did, it must have been something very drastic to make Rogue fall out of love with him so quickly," Hank commented.

Jean was about to say something else when a very unfamiliar beeping began to go off in the war room, she jumped, and turned towards the control panel, "what's the beeping?" she looked frantically for any kind of information on the monitors.

"Oh…" Hank raised an eyebrow, "it's one of the watches…" he pointed to a very small monitor near his left side. Hank, and the Professor had created watches specific for the X-Men several months before. The watches worked as two-way communicators, tracking systems, they could even tell the temperature of the environment the wearer was in, plus the added necessity of a watch – to tell time. All the X-Men and the students were required to wear them at all times.

"What watch…"

Hank glanced to the monitor near him, and he hit the 'I' key on the keypad to bring up more information, "watch number 00067," he said.

"who's 67?" Jean asked. Each member given a watch was designated with a watch number.

Scratching his head, Hank hit the 'Q' key to query the number. The information scrolled down over the screen

00067

Elizabeth Braddock

Blue Team

Member Status: Hiatus

"Oh my…" Hank said, "it's Betsy."

Jean got up quickly and leaned over Hank's back to look at the screen he himself was staring at, a profile of Betsy Braddock appeared on the screen, along with her watch number, and vital statistics. Underneath, flashing in red text, was the word 'pulse dropping'."

"Pulse dropping?" Jean asked.

Hank got up quickly and ran over to the opposite side of the war room where a large plasma screen was mounted upon the wall, he hit the "T" key on the keyboard underneath the screen and waited for the prompt to appear, "me and the professor were testing out a new feature with the last ten watches we created," Hank responded, "the watch detects the average pulse rate of it's wearer, and if the pulse rate drops, it sends out an automatic distress signal – which is what the beeping sound was – it was alerting us that one of the X-Men needs medical attention."

Jean watched as Hank typed in the number 00067 and a map of the world appeared in colour upon the plasma screen. Moments later, the image began to zoom on the United States, and then zoomed further upon an area just outside of New York, "he's not far," she said, sounding quite relieved.

"We should alert the team," Hank suggested.

"Who are we going to alert? The Blue team are away on a mission, Ororo and Kurt are also out on a mission," she reminded.

Hank bit into his lip as he watched the pulse monitor on screen, "Betsy is going to DIE if we don't do something soon, Jean…we need to get out there as soon as we can."

Jean rushed over to the door, "okay, I'll go get suited up…"

"You can't go alone," Hank gaped.

"What choice do I have? Someone has to be here in case of an emergency call…"

Hank stood quickly, "I'll go with you…Kitty can keep watch in here."

"Kitty is eight and a half months pregnant! She doesn't need that kind of stress."

"Kitty will be fine. She doesn't panic, if anything comes through she'll react calmly and accordingly…besides, what choice do we have?" Hank asked.

"Fine," Jean sighed, "But I'd rather not have her working in here whilst in her condition."

"She'll be fine, Jean, I promise," Hank put his large hand on her shoulder, "go get ready. I'll prepare The Red Eye 2."


	3. Chapter 3: Out of Love

Dismal Angel Revelations - Episode 1

Rejected By The Light

Chapter 3: Out of Love

It had been 1.48am exactly when Rogue had begun to feel strange. She and Bobby Drake had been at a nightclub in downtown Bayville that didn't close until 3am.

The feeling was almost like coming out of a drunken stupor, and she couldn't really explain it exactly, because she hadn't had much to drink all night – in fact, she'd barely had four beers in the last three hours, and that certainly wasn't enough to make her drunk enough to notice the sobriety begin to set in.

She rubbed her head, it felt almost like a strange pressure had lifted from her head, and she couldn't remember ever having felt like that before.

Bobby Drake had been standing at the bar in a large queue getting more beers, and he returned and placed them on the table, he noticed Rogue's strange expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked rather loudly, trying to drown out the loud thudding music that surrounded them.

"Nothing," she said even more loudly than he did. Her throat was beginning to ache from having had to speak loudly all night and her voice was a little more hoarse than usual. She accepted the beer he'd brought her gratefully, and she took a quick sip, "what time is it?" she asked.

"1.49am," he answered, he took a large swig from his bottle. "Do you wanna dance some more?"

"I'd rather not," Rogue said, "I've been dancing all night, my feet are already killing me," she confessed, she reached down under the table to stroke her burning feet. She felt she should have known better than to wear a pair of stiletto heels that Carol Danvers had bought whilst she'd been living in Rogue's body.

"I guess you're right," Bobby shrugged, but smiled, "what say we finish these and head out?"

"Okay," Rogue said quietly.

She had to admit, the last few months had been the happiest she'd had in her life for a very long time. _Six months_, she told herself. _Has it REALLY been that long_? She wondered as she took another sip from the beer. It seemed strange. The last six months had gone by so fast she'd barely had time to register it. It seemed like merely six weeks rather than six long months.

Every night she'd wondered to herself why she'd spent so much time pining for Remy when Bobby had been everything she'd needed all along. He was funny, he was good looking, and he was always there when she needed him – just like he always had been.

_Bobby is like a Volvo_, Rogue thought sullenly. _Reliable_.

It struck Rogue right then that this was such a horrible thought to have about the man she'd been dating for the past six months.

_Dating innocently_, she thought at herself. _Come on, who are you foolin'_? She wondered. _You've been dating this guy you can't kiss, haven't even had the vague desire to touch, and everything is just fine_?

Then she discovered this might be the problem. Things were fine. A little too fine. Too good to be true. They hadn't fought once. They hadn't even had a simple little disagreement. There seemed to be no real spark, and yet, they continued to see each other romantically and hold hands and hold each other like they'd been lovers for years. But there was no love. None that she could see, anyway.

What is it everyone used to tell me? When things are fine, that's when you should worry?

Something the Professor had said to her several months ago that a professor at the university he had attended had told him when he'd been having a fight with a lady he'd been dating at the time. Those words began to replay itself in her head with a vague echo.

_'Brawls between lovers are somewhat expected and only natural. If you do not argue occasionally, you will never realise your passion for each other. If you never fight, how will you know her emotions? If you cannot yell, how will you ever see the fire in her eyes? Fights can only mean you care…it's when you aren't fighting with the girl you love that you should start to worry'_.

_He's right_, Rogue decided. _Me and Bobby don't argue about anything, because we don't have any passion_, she sighed to herself, "lets go," she said as she got up.

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked as she got up also. It was the first time he'd looked in her face since her return from Las Vegas and seen that something was wrong.

"Nothing," she assured, and although she wasn't sure she should, she took his hand anyway – glad of the satiny material of her purple glove that prevented their skin from contacting. They walked together to the main exit.

Outside, there was a chill in the air, and an icy rain had begun to fall heavily from the sky. Rogue shivered, and she wasn't sure if it was from the cold, or from the strange feeling that she'd made a terrible mistake six months earlier.

_How did I let this happen_? She asked herself in thought. _I must have been out of my mind_.

"It's deadly silent," Jean Grey whispered to Hank McCoy as she followed him down a dark hallway in the basement of the chemical plant she and Hank had traced Psylocke's signal back to. The whole place seemed terribly empty, save two security guards who were unconscious in the hall above. They'd been unconscious long before Jean and Hank had arrived. Hank's quick diagnosis had ensured they'd be fine. Right now, they had Psylocke to deal with.

Hank glanced at his hand held tracker, it was finely tuned into the frequency the watches were set at, and he was able to visually trace the watch with a digital compass which would point him in the right direction. "Just a little further," he said, "I fear Betsy may have taken her watch off," he said concernedly as he shivered. The hall was so cold he could see his breath in the pale blue lights that hung above.

"Why do you say that?" Jean asked, her voice slight.

"I lost a pulse a while ago…" Hank said grimly. He didn't want to admit one of the X-Men's own might have died. He decided he'd rather pretend – even if he wasn't even fooling himself – that Betsy had probably just removed the watch herself rather than been killed.

Jean felt an inexplicable shudder course through her, and it made her stop instantly, "Hank, I have a very strange feeling," she admitted.

"What kind of feeling? Telepathic?" Hank stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at her.

"I don't know…I don't think so…" Jean confessed, "do you ever get that strange…feeling…like icy fingers running up your spine…and the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up?"  
"All the time," Hank gave a solemn smile, "Perhaps someone walked over your grave."

Jean shivered, "lets get this done and get out of here as quickly as possible…"

"This way…" Hank turned around a corner, "we're real close now…"

Remy heard the voices approaching, and he stood up in his strange ghost like form to look around the large hall where his own body and Psylocke's lay. He tried to listen closer, the voices were merely mumbles in the distance.

Probably the security guards me and Betsy found on the first floor, he said, he heard his voice strangely echoing again, he was almost convinced it wasn't even his voice at all – and if he hadn't been alone, he would have believed it.

The voices came again, and this time, he was sure he heard the softer tones of a woman. He stood by his own body, afraid that if he should leave it, the remnants of whatever life had been left in it might snuff out like a candle.

"Hank!"

Remy spun around to the entrance of the large shipping room where the fight had taken place. He saw Jean Grey rush in, her red hair flowing behind her as she fell by Betsy Braddock's body immediately to examine it. Hank McCoy followed.

"She's dead…" Jean looked at Hank worriedly.

Thank god you have arrived, Remy said loudly and he rushed over to greet them, and was somewhat surprised by their complete indifference to his presence.

"I was afraid she might have been," Hank sighed, he double checked for a pulse, "she's been dead since we left the Mansion," he sighed again and glanced over to where Remy's body lay. "Remy is here too…"

Jean got up and rushed over, "he's still breathing…" she put two fingers to his throat to feel for a pulse, "pulse is there, but it's weak…"

Hello, I'm right HERE! Remy cried at Jean and Hank, he ran a hand in front of Jean's face and she seemed to fail to notice altogether.

Hank examined Remy quickly, "Laser wound…" he mumbled, "He's weak, but steady enough to survive the journey back to the Mansion…" he admitted.

Hey! I'm here! Remy tried to kick Hank's leg, but passed right through him as if perhaps Hank were intangible.

"I'll contact Kitty and let her know we're arriving with a casualty," Jean answered.

"Don't advise her of who the casualty is," Hank said quickly, "it isn't advisable to upset a pregnant woman – especially with the news that one of her close friends has been mortally wounded."

Jean! You're telepathic! If anyone were to know I was still here YOU should! Remy cried at her, but failed to gain her attention. He waved his hands wildly at her but received no notice.

Hank unzipped the front of Remy's leather uniform and pulled it to the side to check for the stab wound on the left side of his chest.

"What are you doing?" Jean asked, once she'd finished contacting Kitty via her communicator.

"Checking for the stab wound," Hank said firmly, "We made a mistake once taking a clone in…I want to be sure this time we're treating Remy LeBeau and not an evil clone," Hank responded quietly.

Mon Ami! Remy cried at Hank, It is me, not a clone!

Hank found the scar he had been searching for, and he sighed in relief. "He has the stab wound. This is most definitely Remy LeBeau..."

"Let's get him back to the mansion…" Jean stood up. "We should have this laser wound seen to before it becomes infected."


	4. Chapter 4: Not There

Dismal Angel Revelations - Episode 1

Rejected By The Light

Chapter 4: Not There

Remy had never really experienced anything like this before – been ripped somehow from his body and left unattached from it. A ghost from a body that really hadn't died at all. He was wondering when this outer body experience was ever going to end.

He'd managed to follow Hank and Jean onto the Red Eye, but this was the only thing he had been able to do. He still couldn't seem to grab their attention either, and it was beginning to distress him.

Although he hadn't given it much thought. When he'd seen Jean and Hank approaching, he'd been almost convinced – with Jean's telepathic abilities – that his ghost should be noticed. But even Jean was oblivious to this, and it worried him. If Jean couldn't see him, would the Professor? Would anyone?

_If no one can see me, how will I ever find out what's going on exactly – how will I ever get back in my body again_? He wondered during the journey, he was standing near the control panel at the front of the Red Eye near the co-pilot seat. A seemingly endless darkness with tiny twinkling lights below passed by, and he couldn't help but ponder if he'd ever get to walk down there again and feel the hard cement under his boots. _Maybe I'm brain dead_, he suddenly thought. _Maybe that's what's happened. Maybe I am just a ghost now, because my brain is dead, no reviving me – I'd be a vegetable_.

When the short journey was over, Hank and Jean exited the jet. Jean was using her telekinetic abilities to support Remy's lifeless body in the air as effortlessly as if he weighed barely anything.

Remy followed, feeling very downhearted and confused. The hanger was silent, save the sound of Jean's boots. Then there was a gasp from the ramp area that led up to subbasement tunnels.

"Oh my god!" Kitty Pryde had rushed through the doors, she ran in a strange waddle, her large stomach sticking out in front of her almost seemed as if it didn't belong there, as if it wasn't part of her, but rather a beachball underneath her pale yellow terrycloth robe.

Wow…she got so big, Remy thought, slightly amused.

"What happened?" Kitty demanded in an upset high pitched tone.

"We're not sure yet," Hank sighed, "Kitty, please, don't concern yourself. He will live…"

Kitty didn't look any the less concerned, and Remy loved her for that. It was somewhat comforting to know that if he had died, at least someone would be earnestly mourning.

Would Rogue even mourn? He wondered solemnly. He watched Kitty move over to his own body, as it was floating in the telekinetic lock Jean had on it.

"Kitty, please…" Jean said softly, "don't stress over him, he'll be fine. It's just a laser wound – he's going to survive. Please don't worry," Jean touched Kitty's pregnant belly in a fond way, "we spoke about this stress you cause yourself by worrying. It's not good for the baby."

Kitty pouted, "I know but…how can you expect me to not worry – Remy is my friend."

"And I'm sure he wouldn't want you worrying either," Hank suggested.

Remy watched Kitty, he could see the true concern in her eyes and the hurt in her face. He felt a surge of overprotection for Kitty, he'd always cared for her, almost in the way a big brother might over his younger sister. He's right, Kitty. Don't stress. Don't hurt the baby. If they say I'll be fine, I will be…

Kitty too, seemed as oblivious as Hank and Jean, and Remy felt that if perhaps he'd been in his body, he might have cried with the frustration.

_I don't get this. Why can't they see me? Fine, if I'm a ghost, they might not see me, but surely the atmosphere would change or something. I've read enough horror books and books on the paranormal to know that ghosts make the temperature drop…and the electricity changes in the room…why isn't any of that happening here_? He looked around in curiosity.

Remy followed as Jean and Hank went on their way to take his body to the hospital wing. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Kitty was following. He wished Kitty could see him. Kitty was smart, she'd know what to do. She'd look up thousands of books for an answer. She'd do that for a friend.

Kitty yawned, "the professor called, he's still in Washington. He'll be getting a flight out to Paris tomorrow…" she said as she followed.

_Great_, Remy thought miserably. _The only other person in the mansion who might have seen me…and he's not even HERE_. He stopped in the middle of the hall, and received a surprise as Kitty passed right through him.

"What is the Professor doing there anyway, he hasn't even told me," Jean said, sounding slightly upset about this, which surprised Remy, as Jean always seemed so nonchalant about everything concerning anyone's business.

Kitty didn't answer, and Hank paused in the hallway, as did Kitty, "Jean, I'll be there in a moment," he assured. "Clean the wound as best you can," he added.

Jean, who had been studying to be a doctor, was fine with this, and she slipped away and disappeared in one of the elevators.

When she was gone, Hank turned towards Kitty, "what did he say?" he asked quietly, checking again by looking down the hall to make sure that Jean was definitely out of earshot.

"He says he might have found a lead – in Paris. Looks like Jessie might have been born there, but we have to wait until he finds out more," she added, "then we'll know for sure…"

Remy stood silently observing. Who's Jessie? he asked aloud, although was quite aware neither of his fellow X-Men could hear him.

"Anyway, lets just keep this between ourselves," Kitty added.

"We've managed nearly six months, I'm sure we can keep it quiet," Hank nodded, and then the two went down the hall.

Remy followed them into the elevator that lead up to the ground floor of the mansion, where the small hospital wing was located. He decided not to go with them to the hospital wing though, he already knew his diagnosis, Hank had said he would be fine, and he believed that. Besides, he needed to somehow find someone else who would see him, or feel his presence.

_Okay, so Kitty, Jean and Hank can't, and the Professor is gone…so…who else? _He asked himself. _Someone will be around surely_.

"Are any of the others back yet?" Hank asked.

"Not yet…still all out on missions," Kitty responded.

_Fuck, what is this, the worst night of my life or what?! No one but Kitty, Jean and Hank are here and no one can see me, my body is lying with a laser hole in it, and I'm floating around outside of it_! Remy thought in despair.

Kitty's glittering sapphire blue eyes fell to her stomach, and she touched it, "baby is kicking again, I swear this kid is gonna kick a hole right through me one day," she grumbled.

Remy smiled, and momentarily wished he could feel her stomach. He felt a strange connection, like that kid might perhaps be his niece or nephew. Uncle Remy, he mused_. What a concept_. He placed his hand near to Kitty's belly, but his hand passed through her as if he'd swiped merely at air. For a swift second, he thought he saw Kitty shiver ever so slightly, and wondered if perhaps he'd prompted that response in her.

"Temp in this elevator is a little chilly," Kitty said, "when are you going to fix the thermostat in this place anyway?" she asked, "I've only been begging for the last three months."

Hank merely smiled, "I'll get around to it – it's on my 'to do' list."

"Yeah, the laundry is on your 'to do' list as well, and it's still been lying in the laundry baskets in the laundry room for the last four days now," Kitty frowned.

Hank patted her head, "you and your little mood swings, it amuses me so," he kissed her forehead affectionately, and the elevator doors opened at that moment, "go back to bed, Kitty, and get some sleep. You don't want that baby to be an insomniac like you're turning out to be," he added as he stepped out of the elevator. Remy followed.

Kitty hugged herself, the foyer hall which the elevator led into was freezing, Remy couldn't feel it but he could tell from her breath, which misted against the cold. "If you had a baby inside of you trying to kick it's way out of you every night, I think you'd be an insomniac too, Hank," she retorted.

Remy watched Kitty walk towards the stairs, the back of her terrycloth robe swaying in her strange pregnant waddle. She began to head up the stairway to the foyer, although he could see her hesitate for a moment, and he could tell she might be still concerned about his condition. She paused on the stairway and turned, "Hank!" she called out as Hank was almost on his way down the hall.

Hank retraced his steps, "yes?" he responded, and he looked up at her, she was half way up, standing with her left foot on one step higher than her right, her hand was on the mahogany banister, she gripped it hard and her knuckles turned white.

"Remy IS going to be okay, right?" she asked, her blue eyes glittering with what might be tears, but Remy was sure that this was just the hormones making her slightly over emotional.

Hank smiled again, he seemed confident, and at ease, "Of course. I've dealt with such wounds a hundred times, he's going to be fine."

"Right…" Kitty nodded, reassured by his expression alone. She knew if she really had anything to worry about it would be in Hank's expression. As professional and intelligent as he was, he could never hide bad news, his expression would fall far too solemn, and she'd tell at once. Without further ado, she continued upstairs, disappearing out of Remy's sight.

_I wish I believed that_, Remy thought. _If I can't get back into my body, will I REALLY be alright? How long can my body survive without me in it_?


	5. Chapter 5: Plenty

Dismal Angel Revelations - Episode 1

Rejected By The Light

Chapter 5: Plenty

Remy had sat on the bottom steps of the foyer staircase for some time, trying to decide what he should do about the situation. He had thought about going to his bedroom to sulk, but realised it wouldn't do him much good. And he wasn't even sure if he could open – or even pass through – the door. So he sat there, brooding, trying to think of some plan which would get someone's attention to his presence.

But he kept coming up blank.

He was almost to the point of giving in, and he began to think of getting up and going along to the Hospital wing to see how his body was doing, and if Hank and Jean had noticed anything about him – like his presence missing from his body – when the front door of the mansion opened, and Bobby Drake and Rogue stepped in quietly.

Rogue looked very solemn, as she stood there wearing a soft lilac coloured pashmina wrapped around her, and a long satin skirt, and some stiletto heels that Remy felt looked quite uncomfortable. Her long hair was tousled in very soft curls, her make up matched the pashmina, and brought out the green in her eyes and the fullness of her pouting lips.

God, I love her, Remy thought desperately. He stood up slowly. Every time he saw her, he loved her slightly more, he found that hard to believe, having known her as long as he had, but it was true. At that moment, he loved her more than he ever had before. She was stunning, and had he been in his body, he felt he might have lost his breath from the mere sight of her.

"You've been real quiet. Didn't say a word on the cab ride home…" Bobby said softly.

Remy stood right in front of Rogue, Please see me, he pleaded of her, but she seemed as oblivious to his presence as did the others, and he felt despair sinking in more and more.

Rogue's breath steamed against the cold of the foyer as she spoke, "Sorry. Got a lot on my mind…" she said, she turned and looked at him and Remy felt it was hard to read the expression in her eyes.

Bobby touched Rogue's shoulder in a tender way, his fingers brushing gently against the fabric of the cashmere pashmina, "did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Yes," Rogue murmured quietly, and looked away.

Get away from my woman, you piece of shit Asschunk, Remy uttered, he heard his voice echo strangely again, he wanted to move Bobby's hand away from Rogue forcefully but knew this was useless.

"Did I tell you that pink is your signature colour?" Bobby asked, trying hard to do a successful southern accent, that one might perhaps have heard in the movie 'Steel Magnolias'. Remy was almost positive this line might have been from that movie also.

"It's not pink, it's lilac," Rogue remarked, not amused in the least.

"Hey, you usually laugh at my jokes," Bobby murmured, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing…" Rogue said softly, "I'm just tired, and a little groggy. I think maybe my tolerance for booze is goin' downhill," she added.

"You at least enjoyed our date, right?"

"Of course," Rogue said, and forced a smile, although Remy felt there was something behind that smile that said otherwise to Bobby's question.

Date?! Remy asked, DATE?! This better be a one off 'date'! he was practically yelling. Rogue, what are you THINKING?! Going on a date with this Asschunk.

"I love you, you know that, don't you?" Bobby said softly.

"I know…" Rogue nodded, and smiled, and her smile this time was a little warmer, and somewhat more genuine than before.

Love?! When did THIS happen?! What the hell is going on?! his voice boomed across the hall, unheard by Rogue and Bobby. God, I want to wake up from this stupid nightmare already – if that's what this is. Because it sure as HELL ain't a dream!

Bobby looked at Rogue expectantly, raising an eyebrow, "And…you still love me too? Because…hell, y'know I'm so damn loveable, I kiss myself in the mirror I can't stand it."

Rogue gave a soft laugh, "yes, I do," she said, she kissed the fingers of her satin gloves and touched Bobby's cheek, only leaving a very slight trace of lipgloss upon his face. "Goodnight," she said softly, and began to walk away.

"Goodnight?" Bobby asked. "That's it?" he looked upset.

"What else is there?" Rogue stopped in the middle of the hall and looked back at him curiously.

He BETTER not be implying what I THINK he's implying! Remy fumed, and swiped at Bobby furiously, although his hand passed right through him. He wished right then for the ability to punch Bobby squarely in that mouth of his.

"Don't you even KNOW what date this is?" Bobby asked, sounding quite distressed now.

"I…no…" Rogue said, "Friday?"

"It's the Ninth of December," Bobby said pointedly.

"So…it's sixteen days until Christmas?" she asked, not sure of the point Bobby was making.

"No…" Bobby pouted, "It's six months since we started dating."

Six MONTHS?! Remy demanded, I only LEFT to find Sinister on the 6th of June! That Bastard must have moved in on Rogue the minute I LEFT!

"Oh, that…" Rogue trailed off, "Of course I remember…" she forced a smile, "I just, I don't know, I feel a little tipsy, like I said, it's making it hard to think…" she said.

"Oh…" Bobby said. "It's just…I don't know, I mean, when you were dating that Queerhawk Gambit, you and him seemed more intimate…and I barely touch you and you pull away…I'd like to think that we're going to be a little more…physical…even if it's just hugging every once in a while."

Remy frowned, Asschunk son of a bitch, she'll NEVER get physical with you because she doesn't give a shit about you! he cried, wishing Bobby would hear him.

"We will…" Rogue assured, "I just need time…there's things that happened…back months ago…that I haven't quite…I don't know, dealt with…and before I get…physical…I need to really…deal with it…" she explained.

Remy wanted to reach out and hug her, he knew what she was talking about. The memory of having seen Carol Danvers use Rogue's body to have sex with the very man who'd raped Rogue seven years earlier was still fresh in his head, and it would be for many years to come, although Remy wished that were not the case.

"Oh," Bobby said, downheartedly.

"Look, Remy is the only guy I've ever…been close to…and look where that got me…" she sighed, "I just…I want to wait a little longer…"

"Why? So that you're sure I'm not going to fuck with you the way he did? That I'm not going to hide things?" Bobby demanded.

Rogue heard the hostility in his voice, and it struck her that this might just be the first argument they'd had since they'd started to date six months ago. She'd only been thinking that they never argued because they didn't care merely an hour ago and now, he one seemed to be about to brew.

"No, it's not that," Rogue insisted.

"I'd NEVER hide things from you. I'll never lie to you…I'll never do anything like he did," Bobby assured.

Rogue looked at him, "I know, I know…you love me, and you'll never hurt me," she said, "But this is a story I'm all too familiar with, and while I know you mean it…I just need time, that's all…can you give me that?" she asked.

Bobby paused, "Okay…" he finally agreed, "if time is what you need, then so be it…"

What you NEED is to dump his sorry ass and get your own ass into the hospital wing where MY body is lying. C'mon, Rogue we are MADE for each other, why are you wasting your time with this pathetic loser? Remy asked.

Rogue paused, "Honestly…" she said softly, "about an hour ago I was beginning to think our relationship had no dynamic…that…there was no real…spark…but now…I'm beginning to think differently."

"Why?" Bobby asked. "I mean…why would you think that in the first place."

"I don't know, just a little piece of knowledge…" she shrugged, "y'know, a kind of…belief, that if couples don't fight and never find a reason to fight, they can't really care enough to fight, so they can't really care about each other."

"Jesus, Rogue," Bobby sighed, "y'know, your fighting constantly with that bullshit artist LeBeau has REALLY messed with your mind," he admitted.

You wanna see what a real 'messed up mind' is, Asschunk? Remy asked with detest for the man, you just WAIT until I'm back in my body, I'll ram that thick skull of yours right through that marble floor.

Bobby looked at her, his expression softened, his ice blue eyes met her dark green eyes, "but then how can I expect you to think anything other than that…when the only relationship you ever seemed to have with that asshole was one full of fighting and arguments and breakups. It must be strange to function on an adult relationship where there are no fights and no arguments at all."

"It is, kind of," Rogue confessed. "I'm certainly not used to it. My relationship with you has been very calm compared to my relationship with Remy…"

"And that can only be a good thing, Right?" Bobby asked.

Wrong! She's right, Damn it! Fighting with each other DOES show you care, passion is in that entanglement of emotions that we'd yell out at each other! Passion is in the making up again! The calm after the storm! Remy yelled, desperate to be heard.

"I guess you're right," Rogue nodded, "I guess it isn't healthy to fight all the time. And being content is quite…soothing, really. I never have to worry about our relationship…" Rogue added.

Bobby smiled brightly, "Let me worry for both of us, you never need to worry about anything again."

You better start worryin', PLENTY, Asschunk, Remy remarked bitterly, as he watched them go their separate ways for the night. Because when I'm back in my body, you can kiss this 'calm' relationship with MY woman goodbye.


	6. Chapter 6: Addicted to Lies

Dismal Angel Revelations - Episode 1

Rejected By The Light

Chapter 6: Addicted to Lies

Remy could do nothing to improve his situation. He checked in with the hospital wing, and watched Hank and Jean dressing his laser wound, and discussing his health. They even seemed convinced there would be very minimal scarring, which he was glad of. He had enough scars on his body as it was.

Remy decided to go to his room when Jean and Hank went to complete their watch in the war room for the remainder of the wee small hours of the morning. Remy wasn't sure if he himself could sleep, but it would be worth a try. Anything to pass the time until the others arrived and he could test his luck to see if any of them could see his presence.

He went up the stairs to the men's dorms which was where his room was located. His room door was very much the same way he had left it, and it still had the sign with R. LeBeau imprinted upon it. He tried the handle but his hand passed right through it. He decided it might be worth a try to see if he could completely walk through the door, and he braced himself, and put his leg through the very solid door.

He passed through as if he did not exist at all, and after confirming his suspicion about this, he stepped the rest of the way through.

His room was in darkness, but a shaft of moonlight seeped in from the window, between the blind slats so that if left the light in horizontal stripes across the opposing wall. Remy moved over slowly and peered out over the Xavier estate.

Everything was laden with snow. Crisp and white, and startlingly brilliant against the blackness outside. The snow almost seemed to glitter like mounds of diamonds and it made Remy fondly remember walking with Rogue on a snowy night many years ago.

Remy had never had much of an affection for snow, being much more acclimatized to the scorching Southern heat, but somehow, walking with Rogue that night had given him a whole new appreciation for it. And now, this snow itself seemed incredibly beautiful, and the sheer sight of it momentarily calmed the fretting inside of him.

How he wished he could have shared this with Rogue. It was incredibly romantic, and she had a love of such things.

Remy pondered then if he would ever even share anything romantic with her ever again. She'd moved on with her life, it seemed, and her future plans didn't involve him. Now, she had this relationship with Bobby, which Remy couldn't understand because Rogue had never shown any interest in the man before.

_But then this happens with people who've known each other a long time, doesn't it? They fall in love, because they're such good friends_, he thought. _Come to think of it, if things had been ever so slightly different me and Kitty could have ended up that same way if I hadn't rejected her kiss when we were in Illinois when her parents had just died in that fire. For all I know, if I hadn't rejected her kiss, me and her might have fell in love and settled down. Ha, as if that'd happen. Not to me and Kitty. We're not…a match. We just don't mesh. She's great, pretty and smart, but not my type. Besides…it'd be like…incest. I feel like Kitty is almost flesh and blood. The kid sister I never had. Besides...she was always in love with Piotr…it's a shame that it never worked out with them when they finally did get together._

_ Damn it, I SHOULD have gone after him and brought him back. It was all a misunderstanding. So what if she was pregnant, they were in love nonetheless, he was too rash to just run off like that…but then, who am I to talk, I've been running off all my life._

Remy felt a slight guilt, thinking about it now. With nothing but time on his hands at the moment, thoughts of what should have happened several months ago started to come back. _Wish I could go back in time, _he thought dully. _I'd stop myself from being captured by Sinister in the first place…if that had never happened, Kitty wouldn't be knocked up and single right now. If I could go back in time I'd take back everything I ever did to Rogue, every little lie I'd ever made…Damn it. If only it were possible. I'd make everything right again. If I could go back before I even met Rogue and change everything, maybe our lives would both be better by now_

He thought of Rogue once again, and felt an ache in his chest for her, although he was sure this was physiologically impossible as he no longer technically had a chest in this ghostly form. _I wonder if Rogue even knew I was back in the mansion, would she be concerned?_ He wondered. He sighed to himself. _Would she even care, or would she just shrug it off and head off with Drake anyway_?

_How could she just go off with him_? Remy thought, he was sure if he'd been in his body he might have felt his heart breaking. He hadn't heard the three words come from Rogue's mouth, but he'd plainly heard her agree to Bobby that she loved him. This was something that made Remy wish he were dead.

_How could she just fall out of love with me so quickly? My love for her has never wavered, not ONCE. Why is it she falls in and out of love with me so quickly_? _Am I so charming and yet, so detestable all at the same time?_

He stared out to the endless snow, the estate seemed so pure, and untouched, and Remy ached wishing he were as pure as that virgin snow. Maybe if he had been, he'd have never gotten himself into so much trouble.

_Sleeping with Bella Donna is what started this whole thing_, Remy thought. In a strange way, it's true. _If I hadn't slept with Bella Donna when I was fifteen this NEVER would be this way. I need to be honest with myself…I only dated her because I wanted to sleep with her. She was the prettiest girl in the Big Easy, who wouldn't have wanted to? But she told me if I didn't love her, she wouldn't 'make love' with me. And so I did. I told her what she wanted to hear. _

_That was the first big lie that started me off on this massive road of deceit. I lied and said 'I love you', and I acted like I meant it even though I knew I didn't. Now I realise if hadn't slept with her, and then started avoidin' her after I did, she'd have never complained about it to her cousin, who would have never told her father, who would have never told MY father, and then they would never have thought of betrothing us to each other. That's why I left…I didn't want to be tied down to a life like that for the rest of my life._

_What if I hadn't left_? He thought. _Would I just be a boring old Thief like every other member of the guild and live my life like that for the rest of my life. Having my father rely on my powers for special 'jobs' like I was some sort of circus animal that performs tricks when it's told_?

Remy tried to close his mind to this thought. All of this made him feel incredibly stupid and childish. He'd been foolish when he fifteen – and come to think of it, he felt even more foolish now than he did then. He still found himself lying whenever he was in Rogue's presence. Even if it seemed the right thing to do to keep from hurting her he knew how incredibly foolish it was to lie.

_Either I have an addiction to lying, or I'm incredibly stupid. Look at all the pain and misery I've caused. Not just to Rogue but to myself…_

_Both are probably true, I'm a lies addict an I'm incredibly stupid_, he thought miserably.

A faint stirring in the room caught his attention, and this was the first time that he realised he wasn't alone. His finely tuned senses didn't work so well without his body to use them with. He heard the shifting of several layers of fabric. Remy went absolutely rigid in his ghostlike state and listened around him. There it was again, the shifting. Remy felt worried for one moment that he might be about to be ambushed, but he quickly realised that no one could see him so he didn't have much to worry about.

I'm definitely not alone in the room, Remy realised at once, and he slowly began to turn towards the bed, and it was the first time he noticed that there was a figure under the bed, and it was moving. He heard the slightest yawn coming from beneath the blankets and he stood there and stared, watching as two slim arms slid out from under the blankets and stretched upwards gracefully, and there came another yawn. A woman's yawn.

What's a woman doing in my bed? He wondered, and added in somewhat amusement, without me in it, anyway…

The figure rose from the covers, and the covers slid off, and a full head of long, black hair made itself visable, the beams of light from the moonlight behind the slats of the blinds caught her face, and Remy recognised her, although it took a few moments to remember her name.

Monet St. Croix.

Monet sat up, and rubbed her bleary eyes momentarily, then she stared across the room to where he was standing and blinked confusedly. Her dark brown eyes seemed to be adjusting to the darkness, and Remy was sure she trying to get a sight on the window to see what the weather was like outside (if you sat straight up in the bed you could see whether there was snow on the hills of the estate).

And then she spoke, and Remy didn't expect her to say anything at all.

"Mr LeBeau?"

- The End

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Okay, so yeah, it's been a while. I haven't been very well so I was taking a break. I had started this on the 19th of November, so it's been a very long work. Anyway, it was (what I feel) a well deserved break after having worked so hard on the previous series. So here we are, in series three already. How time flies.

Thanks to everyone for having been patient and not emailing me and demanding to know where the next instalment was. Thanks to Alex, of course, who always helps me out with the story whether it be researching my previous storylines, or just reminding me of green thongs and asschunks.

Hope you all like the start of this series and I hope you'll all look forward to more…(the first episode of a series for me is ALWAYS the hardest to write so the next should come a little easier).

Anyway, love you all,

- Ash


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